


how to accept softness into your heart and life

by whichlights



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Trauma and Healing, but like... light angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 21:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17754014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichlights/pseuds/whichlights
Summary: “Jeremy has been on my ass since I got here about making friends, opening up, or whatever. To get him to stop bothering me about it, halfway through summer practices I started dropping hints I was seeing someone. Except Jeremy is not convinced, and keeps bothering me, and will you please come to the winter banquet as my date so I can finally get him and his endless positivity to leave me alone?”Kevin blinked once, then again, then screamed, “WHAT?”





	how to accept softness into your heart and life

**Author's Note:**

> eeey long time no kevjean. so, i wrote this as a valentine's day gift exchange present for maikoyo over on tumblr! i saw "kevin/jean" and "fake dating" and then this happened. hopefully its decent.
> 
> tws include some brief allusions to whatever the fuck happened in evermore, and a panic attack/mental breakdown

“Kevin, your phone is ringing!” His father shouted at him in the middle of practice. He held up the offending piece of plastic, obviously waiting for Kevin to do something.

Kevin froze, and a ball hit him in the head. “Hey!” He snapped, glaring at Andrew. The bastard just shrugged. Beside him, Neil and a few of the freshmen were snickering. He flipped them off and ran up to his father, already taking off his gloves.

Wymack gave him his phone, and Kevin understood why he’d let it interrupt practice. He tossed his gloves and racquet into a pile by the benches and answered.

“Day,” Jean greeted him.

“I’m in practice,” Kevin said, automatically switching to French, trying to make the words a threat to hang up and failing. They both knew that if Kevin had any intention of hanging up, he wouldn’t have answered at all. He was too willing to take the scraps of friendship Jean was ready to give him.

“Are you free December 7th?”

“What? Why?”

“Are you?”

“Coach, is there a game on December 7th?” Kevin called out to his father.

Wymack held up a finger in the universal “wait a second” signal and pulled out his phone to look at the calendar. After a moment, he called back, “No, it’s a Saturday. It’s- _NICKY, JACK,_ _DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE! AARON MINYARD, BREAK THEM UP BEFORE I HAVE TO_ -it’s the winter banquet for the West Coast district.”

“Jean, why are you asking me if I’m free on the day of your winter banquet?” Kevin walked away from the loud yelling of the practice, towards the locker room while his father started storming towards the fight breaking out on court.

Jean gave a long sigh. Kevin wondered where he was. Probably in his dorm, but maybe he was in a park somewhere, getting fresh air and sunlight, both things neither of them had gotten nearly enough of with the Ravens. “Jeremy has been on my ass since I got here about making friends, opening up, or whatever. To get him to stop bothering me about it, halfway through summer practices I started dropping hints I was seeing someone. Except Jeremy is not convinced, and _keeps_ bothering me, and will you please come to the winter banquet as my date so I can finally get him and his endless positivity to leave me alone?”

Kevin blinked once, then again, then screamed, “ _WHAT_?”

“That is a no, I assume.”

“I didn’t say that,” Kevin argued, even though he really wanted to say no. But now, just to spite Jean, he couldn’t.

“You were going to. It is alright if you do not want to.”

“I- I wasn’t _automatically_ going to say no? Why do you assume the worst of me?”

“I am not assuming- whatever, okay, it is not that important, just go.”

“Jean, wait.” Kevin took a deep breath. “You’re asking me to pretend to _date_ you, that’s not exactly a simple situation!”

“Well, you are the only person I trust enough to ask! Like I said, it is not really that important.”

Kevin had Jean’s trust again. Any amount of that, no matter how small or _not important_ , was something Kevin wanted to hold onto.

“Yes.”

“Do not say that just because you think I want to hear it.”

“Yes, Jean, I will fake date you.” Kevin dug his fingernails into his palm, trying to keep himself grounded. “But, uh, not on a wide scale.”

“Obviously not,” Jean said softly, the same way he said _you’re never going to play again,_ the same way he said _I want to try to be friends again_ \- the way he said words when he wanted to be kind to Kevin. When he wanted Kevin to know he was _trying_ to be kind. “Just getting Jeremy to stop bothering me.”

“Okay.”

“I will send you details later. You have a suit, right?”

Kevin laughed at that, a little too hysterically. “Sure. I have to go. _Practice_.”

“Bye.” Jean hung up.

Kevin pressed his head against the wall and screamed.

\---

The situation was this:

When they were thirteen, Kevin Day and Jean Moreau met on an Exy field, and Jean was introduced as the newest recruit for the Perfect Court. He was a backliner and he was damn good at it.

When they were fourteen, they became friends. Best friends. Kevin was pretty sure Jean was his only friend (Riko did not count) and he was also pretty sure he was Jean’s only friend, too.

By fifteen, Kevin and Jean told each other everything. (Well, almost everything.)

At sixteen, Jean stopped telling Kevin anything at all.

When Kevin escaped and left Jean behind, it left a great damn canyon in their relationship. At twenty, when Jean was taken to Palmetto by once very blessed and very saint-worthy Renee Walker, he refused to play for the Foxes.

Also at twenty- Jean agreed to try to fix the divide between them. Because neither of them wanted to be without their best, first, and only friend.

It was slow going, with both of their attempts at conversation and contact sporadic at best. Both desperate to reach out and unsure if their attempts would be unwelcome after all.

Kevin Day had lost Jean once. He wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.

\---

The good part about Jean asking three months in advance was that Kevin was able to time his schedule around his new event. The Foxes’ district was having their banquet the week after, so Kevin now had to attend _two_ banquets, which was kind of awful, actually. But such was the life of an Exy superstar.

The first person he told about the arrangement was Andrew, because he wasn’t sure if Andrew’s guard dog act would be over now that Riko… had passed away. Andrew seemed completely fine with letting him go to California alone, though Kevin would bet he just enjoyed the idea of a weekend where he and Neil would have the dorm to themselves.

Next was his father, who gave him a strange look, an awkward congratulations, and told him he still had to play the game before. Kevin agreed, more than a little relieved that it had gone smoothly, and that he was still expected to play Exy. He knew if he’d had that conversation with the Ma- Coach Tetsuji, he wouldn’t get that much.

Life went on mostly as normal. Kevin sort of forgot about it for the most part- Jean was a five hour flight and several time zones away, which meant that talking to him was not a very often occurrence, much less seeing him.

But maybe this was the olive branch they needed in their relationship. Two weeks later, at 1 am, Jean called him. “You would not believe my day,” he muttered in French. In English, he said, “ _yes_ , Jeremy, I am talking to Kevin.”

Kevin, quietly, asked, “have you told him?”

“What? About- no, I have not,” Jean muttered, back to French. “I know… I know how important your supposed heterosexuality is to you. So I am letting you decide when to come out. Until at least the winter banquet. Which you agreed to.”

Kevin shrugged and hugged his knees to his chest, sitting up in bed. Quietly, so he didn’t wake Andrew or Neil, he asked in French, “So, how _was_ your day?”

Jean talked. He talked about how Laila and Alvarez kept inviting him on group outings, and the Trojans never lost patience with him, and how Jeremy always had a smile on, and it was _infuriating_ because he _wanted_ to accept it, but he couldn’t figure out _how_. Kevin found himself agreeing- he’d felt much the same way when he first came to Palmetto.

“I think you should go on one of their friend things,” Kevin finally said.

Jean paused and sighed. “I know.”

“Jeremy just wants to help.”

“Do not project your massive crush on him onto me, Day.” Jean sighed again. “I _know_ he is just trying to help. I… do not know how to accept help.”

“I’ll help you.”

“You do realize how counteractive that is, correct?”

Kevin laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“I am rolling my eyes at you right now.”

“I know.”

Very softly, Jean whispered, “Help me.”

“Of course,” Kevin whispered back.

“Okay. I am going to go now. Bye.”

He hung up. Kevin gave a giant sigh and flopped back into bed.

\---

Kevin wanted to get a new suit for this, because he was paranoid and this was kind of a big deal to him. So he dragged his friends into it. (He didn’t remember when he started thinking of the monsters as his friends. It was… nice, actually.)

Of course, dragging the monsters along meant dealing with Nicky.

Nicky, who very loudly gasped, “Wait, you’re going on a _date_?”

Kevin glanced around the store, motioning for Nicky to be quiet. It didn’t look like anyone was paying attention. “Not so… loud. Yes.”

“ _Who_? Is she straight-girl hot? She’s coming to our banquet, then? Can we meet her?”

Kevin, still stuck on a way to respond, managed to stammer, “Well-” before Aaron’s eyes went wide. Kevin’s heart sank a little.

“Who is _he_?” Aaron asked, eyebrow raised and arms crossed, like he was daring Kevin to correct the pronoun.

Kevin dragged a hand down his face. “It’s- not-”

“ _Kevin!”_ Nicky said delightedly, grabbing his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Good question- why hadn’t he told Nicky he was bi?

Andrew and Neil, who already knew the situation, seemed content to stand back and watch, which meant Kevin was on his own. Nicky was looking at him with big eyes, and Aaron seemed bored of the conversation, and this was _not_ how Kevin Day was going to come out.

“It’s not a date,” Kevin snapped. “We’re not dating. I’m going to _pretend_ to date Jean, because he asked for a favor.”

“Jean? Like, the-grumpy-guy-Renee-saved Jean?” Nicky blinked, deflating a little but maintaining a cheerful spirit. Kevin envied that about him, how he managed to stay bright and friendly. Jean had always been better at people than him.

“Yes. I want him to be my friend again, _dammit_ , so I can fake a date.”

“But he’s not coming to our banquet, right?”

“Why would he do that?” This was Kevin’s bridge to build.

Nicky shrugged and continued to help Kevin with being fashionable. Andrew and Neil snuck off halfway through the shopping adventure, probably to find a changing room to make out in, and Aaron played on his phone the whole time.

It was both the most horrible and fun experience Kevin had had in a while.

\---

Jean calling him was a far more regular occurrence now. Kevin couldn’t pretend he didn’t like it.

“ _Bonsoir, mon cher,_ ” Jean said as an opening. Kevin could hear the grin in his words.

“Oh, are we into pet names now?”

“Jeremy’s listening,” Jean explained (in French, of course). “He does not know I’m talking to you, though.”

“Just mystery boyfriend.”

“Do not be biased. I would be just as likely to have a secret girlfriend. Which is no chance in hell.”

Kevin laughed at that, and Andrew shot him a glare from across the room. “Oh, shut up, you weren’t sleeping anyways.”

“I was trying to,” he muttered, rolling back over.

“Shit. What time is it for you?”

Kevin glanced at the clock. “One a.m. We just got back from night practice.”

“God, _darling_ , go to sleep.”

“Can’t.”

“You should probably see someone about that.”

“Probably.”

Jean sighed. “And here I thought I was the only one horrible at accepting help.”

“Shut up,” Kevin muttered.

Jean laughed and Kevin smiled. “Go to sleep,” Jean said again, more forcefully. “I will see you soon.”

Kevin hung up. _Dangerous._

\---

After night practice, Kevin lay on the couch in the Fox’s so called foyer, staring at the ceiling. Andrew and Neil were still on court, not practicing, obviously, and Kevin just resigned himself to lay down and wait.

He pulled out his phone and texted Jean. _Hey, you still up?_

He winced as soon as he sent it, realizing how stupid it sounded. Really? Just because he was lonely he was going to reach out and talk to Jean?

Jean texted back. _What’s up?_

Oh. Right. Because friends talked to each other and enjoyed each other’s company. Kevin found himself giving a small goofy smile. _Just finished night practice. Waiting on Andrew and Neil._

_And you chose me to pass the time with? I’m flattered._

Kevin smiled as he typed, not even trying to fight it anymore. _Yeah, well, you’re at the top of my contacts list. You call so often._

 _Mhm._ Jean waited a bit before typing: _So how was your day?_

_Mostly boring. History lecture was really good, though._

Kevin paused for a bit, then hesitantly typed, _can I infodump to you?_

 _Of course_.

Kevin launched into a detailed retelling of his history professor’s ramble from class, throwing in his own opinions, connecting it to other things, and occasionally breaking off to laugh to himself. Jean, even over text, was a very good listener, and asked questions that baited Kevin into going onto several more history related tangents.

By the time Andrew and Neil walked into the foyer, Kevin had almost gotten halfway through his ramble. He continued, obviously, and Jean kept listening.

 _We’re talking again_ , Kevin realized, and the sheer _joy_ that sparked in him scared him a little. He wasn’t used to that feeling. It was undoubtedly a good one.

Kevin reminded himself again that feelings for Jean were _dangerous_ . Hopefully that would be enough. _Dangerous_.

Jean texted him, _Alright, so, you’re implying France’s revolution actually wasn’t very successful? But we guitolined so many rich people. Is that not the definition of success?_

 _I didn’t say that, and you’re right_ , Kevin argued back, and wow, he’d really missed talking to Jean.

\---

Kevin remembered the first time he’d come out. It had been to Jean. They’d been fifteen, and Kevin had admitted quietly he liked boys. Jean had said the same thing.

And Kevin didn’t quietly admit who the boy he liked was. If he was careful, he didn’t even admit it to himself most days.

The fact that he was getting on a plane the very next day to pretend to date said boy was _not relevant_.

“You nervous?” His father asked. He must have seen Kevin incessantly tapping his racquet against the floor.

“Why would I be? It’s the halfway point and we’re up by three points. Their defense is a horror show, it’s truly tragic.”

His father gave a little laugh. “I didn’t mean about the game. You do remember what tomorrow is, right?”

Kevin stared at the ground. “Uh, yeah.”

“You good?”

From his locker, Kevin’s phone was buzzing. He went to go grab it. Jean was calling. “ _Salut_.”

“Hey. Their defense is pathetic.”

Kevin’s traitorous heart ignored his command to not skip a beat. “You’re watching the game?”

“Yes. Tell Josten that if he doesn’t start cleaning up his shots, I will come down there to force him to.”

“I already told him.”

“Good. Hey. Knock them out of the park.”

Kevin nodded to himself. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Of course, Queen of Exy.” Jean hung up then.

Kevin’s father cleared his throat. “You wanna talk about that?”

Kevin forced the giant smile off his face. “About what?”

He just sighed. “Paygrade, I get it. Get two more goals or I’ll sign you up for a marathon.”

Kevin wanted to protest that this wasn’t above Wymack’s paygrade (even though it was, technically, he was Kevin’s father before he was his coach- at least, Kevin hoped he was) and that he just didn’t want to talk about it in front of the rest of the Foxes, but fixing father-son relationships that never got a chance to exist seemed to be as difficult as fixing friendships. He closed his mouth and just got ready to go back onto the field.

\---

“Hey, I’m about to get on a plane to California,” Kevin said.

“You do not have to,” Jean said. “Unless you want to.”

“I said I would. Be right there.”

“Alright. See you soon.”

Kevin’s heart was getting very bad at obeying orders. _Stop it, stop it, stop it_ , he begged it. _I said no! We’re ignoring all those feelings things._

And so Kevin ignored all those feeling things.

\---

Kevin stood awkwardly in baggage claim, clutching at his carry on and looking for Jean. He knew he wasn’t late- he’d double checked and triple checked the timing with Jean.

Maybe this was a mistake. He should just go book the next flight home. Hopefully it wouldn’t even be that long of a wait. If he hurried, he could probably still catch up with Andrew and company for a night in Columbia.

A flash of movement caught his eye. Jean was here, walking up to him with an easy grin and wearing a pair of sunglasses. Kevin relaxed instantly and returned his grin. “California is good for you,” he commented. “You seem tanner.”

“I went from ghost-white to a normal human color, Day. You do not get to comment on my ‘tan’.” Jean poked Kevin’s arm, which was a much darker brown. “Jeremy is waiting in the car. This is your last chance to back out.”

Kevin’s heart beat a little faster at that. Jean was giving him an out. Even at the literal last second, Jean wasn’t going to force him to do this. Kevin knew without a doubt if he got cold feet right now, he could back out, go home, and Jean would simply confess to the ruse. So even though he’d been considering going home just a bit ago, Kevin couldn’t imagine leaving Jean now. “I’m good.”

“Careful now, or you will start to sound like your striker.”

Kevin made a face. “No mentioning Neil.”

Jean nodded, took Kevin’s bag, and offered him an arm. “Shall we?”

Kevin took his hand. God, he liked this. That shocked him a little, but he managed to keep a cool smile. He was amazing at hiding how he really felt. “We shall.”

\---

Jeremy absolutely freaked out, but he did a good job of pretending he wasn’t absolutely freaking out.

“Hi Kevin!” Jeremy squeaked, glancing between Jean and Kevin. “I didn’t know _you’d_ be here! Wow, I mean… Kevin Day.”

Jean gave a self righteous smirk, like he’d been imagining the look on Jeremy’s face for too long, but the wait had been worth it. “Yes. This is Kevin. Do you need introductions?”

“Be nice,” Kevin chided him.

Jean gave him a sarcastic smile, which he then turned to Jeremy. “Let’s go. I doubt Kevin had the foresight to eat anything for lunch.”

Kevin snorted, but didn’t argue, because it was true.

Jeremy gave a soft nod and got back in the car. Jean kept giving Kevin an insufferably triumphant look, but-

-but happy was such a good look on him, with a glow in his eyes, a smile on his face, his hair messed up and not a bruise on him.

Kevin wanted to think this was ridiculous, _really, all of this just to one up Jeremy Knox for a weekend?_ But.

But, dammit, Jean looked beautiful.

 _Nope_ , Kevin thought to himself as he got into the car. _Nope, we made it three months without thinking things like this, we’re not doing it now._ Kevin forced all those feelings back into the box where they belonged, and let Jeremy tell him about all the options for lunch before they had to go to the banquet.

This. Was. Fine. He just had to survive a few hours.

\---

Kevin realized his one fatal mistake only hours later, getting ready for the banquet.

He didn’t do anything wrong- he did everything right, got ready on time, fixed his hair, made small talk with Jeremy. He was the perfect fake boyfriend.

His mistake was forgetting that Jean looked _fucking hot_ in suits.

Kevin tried to force all his feelings back into the box where they _belonged_ , but they refused to stay down. Jean wore a suit with a lazy contempt, like the fact that he put it on at all was enough. His hair was only slightly tidier. He looked bored, and Kevin thought to himself, _okay, so this might have been a slight miscalculation on my part_.

Jean looked beautiful.

Jeremy nudged his shoulder. “You good there?”

Oh, shit, he’d been staring.

Kevin coughed. “Yeah. Good.”

Jean raised an eyebrow at him. “Time to get this over with,” he said, and Kevin nodded.

Just get it over with, it couldn’t take that long. Just don’t stare at Jean, not the way his head was tilted slightly in the softly confused expression that meant _hey, Kevin, you’re not okay, tell me what’s wrong as soon as you can_ , his hair falling further into disarray by the second as Jean messed with it, eyes narrowed… and failed step one.

Kevin left the room in a rush, getting out his phone, about to call his father, to tell him he was coming home early, this was a mistake this was a mistake.

“Kevin,” Jean called after him, following his pace until they were walking to the door in sync. “Do you want out?”

“Really?”

“Really. I would not force you to do this.” God, his voice was so _soft_ , and more than anything, Kevin trusted that. He trusted Jean, he trusted that Jean would let him leave if it got to be too much, and he trusted that Jean meant for this to be good.

“I’m okay,” he managed, putting his phone back. “Just some shock.”

“Alright,” Jean said, _softly_ . Who gave Jean Moreau the right to be so _soft_ , with such gentle hands and such a warm voice, such an unbreakable core of compassion? It was killing Kevin. It was killing him.

Because.

“Alright, the bus is waiting!” Jeremy said, running down the hall to meet them. “Laila has already texted me five times.”

Jean held out his hand. Kevin took hold of it. His hands were a little cold, but they were soft in between the calluses from playing. He ran his fingers over the small scars on Jean’s fingers.

“Ready,” Kevin said quietly.

\---

The bus was a disaster when they walked up, full of arguing Trojans, and it all went quiet when they saw Kevin. He managed a small wave.

“Pay the _fuck_ up, Laila!” One girl finally yelled, and the girl sitting beside her started to grumble.

“You were betting on me?” Jean asked, leading Kevin to a set of seats behind the two girls.

The one who had yelled grinned. “Not on you, on _him_.” She pointed at Kevin. “We were betting if you were going to bring a guy or a gal to the banquet.”

“How much money did you get off of Laila?”

“Twenty bucks for betting gay.”

“Nice.” Jean gave her a high five. “Kevin, this is Laila and Alvarez.”

“Nice to meet you.” Kevin said, managing to not completely lose it at the idea that _oh no, the Trojans are actually just like the Foxes, what if Jean ends up with a betting problem_. “You’re a backliner and a goalie, right? Absolute hell on court. You’re really going to be amazing if you go pro.”

Laila looked at him wide eyed, and Alvarez gave a goofy smile. “Uh, thanks, Kevin.”

Kevin nodded and leaned back. The bus ride droned on, and every once in a while, Kevin chimed into a conversation Jean was having with his friends (Jean had _friends_ , this was the most amazing thing in the world, he deserved so much love and friendship and- okay, calm down, Kevin) and slowly “leaning back into the chair” turned into “leaning on Jean’s shoulder”.

When he realized what he was doing, he paused and muttered, “is this okay?” in French.

Jean gave a noncommittal hum and messed up his hair. “Sure,” he said.

Kevin kept leaning on Jean’s shoulder. It felt right. He should stop getting used to this, he knew, but the end of the night felt so far away when Jean carded his fingers through Kevin’s hair and maybe there was softness in the world.

 _This isn’t real_ , Kevin’s brain reminded him.

 _Five more minutes_.

\---

The West Coast banquet wasn’t really all that different from the ones Kevin was used to. He even managed to blend into the crowd, a little bit- at some point, someone would realize it was him, and ask why he was there. He had his prepared lie ready- scouting for the US Court. (He did, also, have a running list in the back of his head of players that would be good for Court.)

The table in the middle of the Exy court looked out of place, but it was the out of place Kevin had gotten used to in his years as an Exy player. Jean and Kevin were seated next to each other at the Trojan’s table, which shouldn’t have shocked Kevin as much as it did.

Jean pulled out a chair for him. Kevin rolled his eyes. “And who said chivalry was dead?” He asked, sitting down.

“You did,” Jean said, sitting down next to him. “Several times.”

“And I stand by that. Old fashioned chivalry isn’t necessary in the modern era, and it should be adapted to the current times, not just doing decent person things that anyone with a single heart cell should do.”

“History major.”

“Art student.”

Jean laughed and Kevin remembered: _step one don’t stare_ . Kevin glanced at the flask of champagne on the table and reached for it. Jean took it first, smoothly putting it out of Kevin’s reach. Kevin gave him a frown. Jean gave him an innocent smile. _Step one don’t stare_.

About five minutes later, Jean nudged his arm. “Groupies, seven o’clock,” he muttered in French. Kevin glanced back to see a group of girls talking and whispering together.

“Shit,” he muttered back.

One particularly brave girl walked up. “Uh, hi,” she managed. “You’re Kevin Day.”

“I am,” he said, putting on his foolproof Kevin Day Smile, the one reserved for reporters, paparazzi, and fans. He held out his hand for a handshake. “You?”

“Uh- Chelsea.” She shook his hand. “I’m with the Washington State Huskies. Backliner.”

Kevin nodded. “You need a strong defense to have a well balanced team, and I heard you ranked second in the district. Congratulations and good job.”

Chelsea nodded rapidly. “Thanks!” She darted back to her friends.

Kevin sat back down. “That could have gone worse.”

“Ah, the wonders of your camera smile.” Jean gestured dramatically. “Do you want to go play volleyball?”

“You ask that. Every time.” Kevin poked his shoulder. “And you do it.Because you know I think it’s _blasphemy_ to put that set up on an Exy court.” Kevin reached for another champagne flute and Jean snatched it away again. Kevin gave him a darker frown this time, and Jean ignored him.

Jean stood up. “Wander with me, would you?”

Kevin followed him. They paced around the edge of the court, managing to not gather much attention to themselves. They made one and a half laps before Kevin worked up the courage to say, to Jean’s face, in front of everyone but in French, the language that Jean had taught him to make the Nest more bearable, “I missed you.”

Jean stopped and kicked at the ground. “Mhm.”

“We’re friends, right?”

“Of course. Friends.” He didn’t meet Kevin’s desperate look.

Kevin stopped and looked at him. “... we _are_ friends, _right_?”

“Sure,” Jean said, a little more snappishly than the question required.

Kevin took a step back. “You’re mad at me.”

Jean shrugged. “It is… not a big deal. Yes, we are friends, Kevin.”

“You know, you don’t have to say it like _that_?”

“Like _what_?” Jean finally met his gaze and Kevin was a little shocked by the look in his eyes. Narrowed, shining like he was about to cry, filled with bitterness and… something.

“I don’t know! Like, begrudgingly. Like you don’t mean it.” Kevin felt his stomach sink. “Is this about the Nest?”

Jean’s eyes narrowed further. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“God, look, no one is more sorry that I left you behind than me. If I could go back, I’d fix it, but I can’t, so I’m trying to fix it _now_ . It feels like you’re pushing me _away_ -”

“You left me!” Jean snapped. “Yes, I’m bitter about that, but it is- it is not _just_ your fault and- dammit, dammit, dammit.” Jean put his hands in his hair and started pacing in tiny circles, muttering soft curses in French under his breath.

“I’m sorry! How many times do you want me to say it? What can I _do_ to make it up to you?”

“Just- dammit, be quiet, for a second, please?” Jean snapped. “I am not mad at you.”

“You _seem_ mad at me.”

“Okay, then, I lied, I’m kind of mad at you!” Jean crossed his arms and glared at Kevin. “There, now it’s out in the air, where it can stop fucking festering. I am _bitter_ and a not insignificant portion of it is directed at you, which is _ridiculous_ , because it is not your fault, not entirely. It is irrational, and mostly I am just _mad,_ in general.”

“It is my fault,” Kevin argued. “I left you!”

“You didn’t know! You had an idea, but you didn’t _know_!”

“Know what?” Kevin’s blood went cold. Jean went quiet and subdued. “Jean, what didn’t I know?”

“I am not doing this here. We’re attracting stares.”

It was true. People were staring, and Kevin didn’t care. He reached forward. “Jean-”

“ _No_ ,” Jean snapped. Kevin took a step back. “Okay, you had some idea. You knew some of it. Not all of it, and I _wanted_ it that way. Why do you _think_ I stopped telling you things?”

“I just assumed-”

“Yeah, you _do that_. You assume because you’re Kevin Day, you know everything, you can control everything, you can keep me from spiraling into a fucking trainwreck disaster of a mess!”

“I just want to be friends again!”

“I KNOW! That’s why I’m mad!”

“ _What_?”

“Dammit! _Dammit_.” Jean stepped forward and poked him hard in the chest. “You were my only friend, Kevin.”

“And you were mine,” he said softly. “I-”

“And I have been in love with you since we were fifteen.” Jean took a step back again. “So there. That’s out in the open now, too. I win.”

Jean blinked, and Kevin blinked back at him. Kevin had a choice. He could say something thoughtful, or he could say the stupid thing.

He said the stupid thing. “You can’t be serious. That’s not how arguments work.”

“Nope, I got the last word, so I win by default.” Jean started to walk away.

“Jean, can we talk about this?” Kevin called after him.

“Already walking away!” Jean yelled at him without looking back.

Kevin kicked the nearest wall, cursing when it sent a bolt of pain through his leg. Jeremy ran up to him, eyes wide. “Uh, you okay?”

“I’m going home,” Kevin grit out, storming towards the door and pulling out his phone to call a taxi to the airport.

\---

The second Kevin landed in South Carolina and took his phone off of airplane mode, he was bombarded by several dozen texts and almost as many missed phone calls.

(None were from Jean.)

He called the most recent. “Nicky? What the fuck are you calling me at two a.m. for?”

“Oh, God! Kevin, we were worried! You weren’t answering!”

“What?”

“We assumed you’d heard the news and had a nervous breakdown and when Renee called Jean he said you’d already left even though your return flight wasn’t until tomorrow and basically we’ve all been worried sick and-”

“Nicky. What news?”

Nicky went quiet. “You haven’t heard, then.”

“I can only take so much of this in a day,” Kevin sighed, mostly to himself. “What happened?”

“The winter banquet…”

Kevin’s heart froze. “That’s already come out? Oh, God, what are they saying about me?”

“What? What _happened_ on your end?”

“That _isn’t_ the problem?”

“No, whatever went on in not-lovebird land is your thing! It’s our banquet we’re worried about. There was a last minute change. It’s at Edgar Allen.”

Kevin briefly forgot how to speak English, French, Japanese, or how to think, or how to process emotions. He forgot what feeling was, and what gravity was, and he could feel himself swaying, vaguely, like remembering what a feeling was. The background drone of the airport turned into white noise and Nicky’s concerned voice in his ear kept getting duller and duller until it was just laughter laughter _his laughter-_

“KEVIN!” Nicky screamed and Kevin screamed back, no words, just panic, drawing the concerned gazes of several airport patrons and a worried look from a TSA agent. “Kevin, it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay!”

“Wymack,” Kevin managed. “W-where’s Wymack?”

“Do you want to talk to him? Andrew, get Wymack to call Kevin.”

“I-I want my dad.”

“Okay. Okay.” Nicky gave a deep breath. “Well. Fuck. Okay, he’s going to call you, I’m going to stay on the line until he does, okay?”

Kevin leaned against the nearest wall, sliding down it to sit down. He nodded before remembering Nicky couldn’t see him. “Shit,” he said.

“Shit,” Nicky agreed.

Kevin’s phone was ringing again. “I-it’s Wymack. He’s calling.”

“Okay,” Nicky said softly. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Kevin hung up on Nicky and picked up his father’s call.

“Where are you?” He demanded instantly. It sounded like he was on speaker. “Airport, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I’m already on the way. You okay?”

Kevin nodded. “I- this was planned.”

“It wasn’t,” his father said, as gently as he was able. “There was an accident at Breckenridge- something with the floors, they’re a mess. They’ll be fixed, but it’s throwing everything off.”

“Why Edgar Allen, then?” Kevin demanded.

“Kevin, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

He’d slipped into French? He didn’t remember doing that.

“Come pick me up,” Kevin whispered.

“Considering that you’re home twelve hours early, I assume I shouldn’t ask how your night went?”

“Please don’t.”

“I’ll be right there.”

\---

When Kevin got back to his dorm, both Andrew and Neil had the good grace to not ask what had happened. Maybe they just didn’t fucking care. Either way, Kevin flopped into bed and resolved to not move for the next twelve hours, and then he did.

\---

When Kevin finally dragged himself out of bed, it was after lunch on Sunday. He managed to get changed into jeans and a loose T-shirt, and brush his teeth, but that managed to be the extent of his “waking up at 3 pm” routine.

“He lives,” Andrew drawled when Kevin walked out to the living room. He was sitting alone on the couch. “Nicky wants to know how it went from your perspective.”

Kevin groaned and rubbed his face. “What do you know?”

“You went to the West Coast banquet, to ‘scout Court talent’, which is a bullshit lie by the way, and you got into a very loud, very French argument with one Jean Moreau of the USC Trojans.” Andrew passed him a bag from the donut shop five minutes away from campus. “Sausage and cheese kolaches.”

Kevin took the food. “We fought.”

“No shit.”

Kevin ate a kolache. “Where’s Neil?”

“He and Nicky are getting ice cream. Nicky is convinced it was a break up, so if he tries to make you watch sad romance movies with him, that’s why.”

Kevin picked at his hand. “Is it really a break up if you were never dating?”

Andrew shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”

Kevin sighed and finally sat down. “He’s mad at me.”

Andrew seemed thoroughly uncomfortable with any conversation that involved feelings, so Kevin let it drop. It didn’t really help his mood.

Nicky and Neil finally came back. Nicky went up to him and immediately hugged him. Kevin managed to not squawk indignantly. “You good?”

Kevin managed a shrug. Nicky let go of him before grabbing his shoulders. “Come on, we’re going to my room.”

“What?”

“Andrew and Neil wouldn’t help you with your feelings if the world depended on it,” he said matter-of-factly. It was true. Andrew and Neil were already drawing away into their private world. “It’s alright. I have ice cream.”

Kevin went with Nicky. Matt and Aaron weren’t in the dorm room, and Nicky gave him a tub of ice cream. “What happened?”

Kevin pushed the ice cream away. “Why are you doing this?”

“In case you need it. You had a rough day. There’s not a rough day that can’t be improved with strawberry ice cream and a friend.”

Kevin took the ice cream. Nicky got him a spoon. Kevin spared a fleeting thought to his meal plan before digging into the ice cream. “Jean is mad at me. I don’t know why, exactly, but he is, and also he said he was in love with me.”

Nicky’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“I think I might be in love with him, too,” he rasped, just barely, so quietly he he hoped Nicky wouldn’t hear.

He did. Nicky’s mouth fell open, and he softly said, “oh.”

Kevin hugged his knees to his chest. “I want to be his friend again. And he seemed to object to the idea and I don’t know _why_ and I’m trying to make amends and he says it’s not my fault but it is so why else would he be mad at me?”

“Kevin,” Nicky said quietly. “You just said you were in love with him.”

“Those are… words I said.”

“Coming from you, who takes every opportunity to remind us- and _me_ -that it’s easier to be a straight Exy player.”

“It is!”

“It still hurt, Kevin.”

He ate more ice cream. “Yeah. It fucking hurts, that it’s true, but if I keep shoving this down, it won’t impact me, I can go on with my life and I can lie all day to everyone all the time and no one will ever know and I’ll never be happy about it but I’ll have Exy.”

Nicky reached out to touch his knee. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I do. The world isn’t ready for an openly bisexual Exy player.”

“Fuck the world, you don’t owe them shit.” Nicky leaned back. “Now. What are you going to do about Jean?”

“What?”

“You said you loved him, and he loves you, so…”

Kevin felt himself blushing. “It’s not that simple. There’s… bridges that need to be built. Bridges I need to build.”

Nicky’s eyes went sad. “Okay. Just remember that… a relationship means both people need to be building bridges. You can’t be the only one willing to reach out and make amends. There… there has to be a spot where you meet.”

Kevin wondered if Nicky was thinking about his parents. It would explain the tears in his eyes. Kevin reached forward and gave him an awkward hug. He was so unused to physical touch, but _God_ he could get used to it. “Alright. Thank you.”

“No problem. Wanna watch shitty Hallmark movies?”

“What?”

“That’s a yes.”

\---

It was a week of radio silence from Jean, and Kevin didn’t reach out either. It felt like it would be unwelcome.

He avoided most discussion about what happened at the West Coast winter banquet. He only gave the required pleasantries, thanking the teams for letting him attend, and then let that be that.

He tried really hard to not think about their own winter banquet. It was completely irrational- Riko was gone, Tetsuji was gone, the Ravens were scattered, but this would be the first time he would be _back_ there since _that day_. He didn’t know what would be worse- being in Evermore again, or being there without Riko.

No, he knew, it was the first one. That place kept ghosts.

Kevin barely focused on the game the night before- they won, but he felt out of place and unfocused.

Jean called afterwards. Kevin spent so long staring at the caller ID that he forgot to answer. When the call timed out, he scrambled to call back.

“You seemed… distracted,” was all Jean said.

“I am,” was all Kevin replied.

They stayed on the line for a very long time, not saying another word until Jean said, “well then” and hung up.

\---

The Foxes’ bus was so different from the Trojan’s bus. It was the same level of noise, but a much harsher version. A few of the Foxes had dates, and Kevin tried to not let that sour his mood further.

“Hey, Coach, why aren’t we going?” One of the freshmen called out.

Kevin’s father was on the phone, nodding and frowning. “Uh, Bee needs me for something. On the phone. Give it fifteen minutes.”

He stepped off the bus.

Renee sat down next to Kevin. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Kevin made a face. “Oh, God, I sound like Neil.”

Renee laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine tonight. We’re by your side.”

Wymack came back onto the bus, still frowning. “Time to go?” Dan asked hopefully. “We’re going to be late.”

Kevin could have sworn he muttered, “We’re not the only ones.” Louder, he yelled, “Alright, bastards and bastardettes, we’re headed out!”

The bus started to roll out of the parking lot, and suddenly stopped before getting onto the main road. There was a chorus of complaints, but Wymack ignored them all and parked the bus. “Someone was running behind the bus!” A freshman yelled from the back.

Renee had a knowing smirk. Kevin looked at her. “What? Is? Happening?”

“You’ll see.”

The bus door opened and Jean Moreau ran in. His hair was a mess, his face was red and he was panting uncontrollably. He was dressed in jeans and a paint splattered T-shirt, and he had very obviously just ran here. He leaned against the bus wall and gave a few hiccuping, shaky, sobbing breaths.

He stood up straight, still leaning against the bus wall. He glanced around until he found Kevin, and met his gaze. “Am I too late to be your plus one?”

He was the most beautiful person Kevin had ever seen.

Jean was looking at him with wide eyes, still panting, and the bus was silent. Kevin felt all eyes on him. “W-what are you doing here?”

Jean slipped into French. “The only flight I could catch landed an hour ago, and I got caught in traffic. I am sorry.”

Kevin responded in kind. “ _Why_ are you here? I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t come. I never expected you to.”

“I could not let you do this alone, could I?”

The bus was still silent, but now the _whispering_ quiet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neil quietly translating the French for Andrew and Allison. Renee gave Kevin an encouraging smile.

“I can go,” Jean said. “If you don’t want me here.”

“No- I-“ Kevin felt like shrinking back. This was a lot. He wanted this. He wanted this and he didn’t know how to get it.

Nicky spoke up first. “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

Kevin stood up and walked down the aisle of seats. Jean looked vulnerable, standing there, heart on his sleeve. Kevin reached out to take his hand.

“Can we please-“ Jack started to yell, and he was cut off with a muffled yelp as Nicky covered his mouth with his hand.

“Hey,” Kevin mumbled.

“Hey,” Jean whispered back.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re here.”

“It is good to be here.”

“We should sit down.”

“Your team does seem to be getting impatient.”

Kevin lead Jean to a row of seats. He didn’t let go of his hand and Jean didn’t let go of his.

The bus actually started going, then. Kevin held onto Jean’s hand as long as Jean would let him. “Wymack knew?”

“He had to.”

“Not me?”

Jean did one jazz hand. “Surprise?”

Kevin stifled a snort. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jean offered him a smile. “I… we will have to talk, after this. But I am here.”

“Yeah. Are you going to take away my booze this time, too?”

“I will not kiss you if you are drunk.”

Kevin’s heart did a strange pitter patter in his chest. Jean looked nervous, like he was about to draw into a shell. “I- I meant-“

“Guess I won’t drink,” Kevin said softly.

Jean relaxed. “Guess not.”

\---

The bus pulled up to Evermore, and the Foxes filed out. Jean and Kevin were, predictably, the last two on the bus. Jean hadn’t let go of Kevin’s hand, but he was squeezing it so tightly that his nails were leaving little marks in his palm.

“I do not want to be back here,” he said quietly.

“Me either,” Kevin replied quietly.

Jean leaned his head against Kevin’s shoulder, and Kevin let him. “I have so many things to tell you. Good and bad and just fucking messed up.”

“Yeah, I… I know.”

“But not right now.”

“Not right now.” Kevin took a deep breath. “I think I love you.”

Jean looked up at him and all Kevin could think was: _soft_.

His eyes, grey and wide, soft and vulnerable and happy.

His smile, small and scared, soft and vulnerable and happy.

His kisses, hesitant and gentle, soft and vulnerable and _happy._

_Happy and soft happy and soft._

Kevin remembered a few seconds later that he was supposed to kiss back.

So he did.

When Jean finally pulled back, he gave a gentle laugh. “God, you are terrible at that.”

“You-” Kevin gave him a gentle shove. He went still. “You’re crying.”

Jean shook his head. “It is not your fault. It… I never thought I would get something like this. You… you are… _so bad at this_.”

“If I have to talk about my feelings, you have to talk about yours, too!”

“I will! Later! When we are somewhere with lots of pillows to cry into and lots of ice cream to eat.”

“I’ll tell Andrew we’re kicking him and Neil out of the dorm.”

Jean laughed, and Kevin wiped the tears off of his face. “You okay?”

“... I think I am. I actually really do think I am okay. Do not get a big head, it isn’t _all_ your fault.”

“I never would have assumed that.”

“I know.”

They were quiet for a bit.

“I think I would much rather kiss you again than go inside Evermore.”

“I think I absolutely agree with that. Someone’s gotta teach me how to kiss, right?”

“Absolutely,” Jean agreed, and leaned in again.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is witchlightsands, my aftg sideblog is genderfluidkevinday, and when i showed this to my friend she said "yeah this is about what i expected if i asked you for kevjean"


End file.
